by Aliyah Burke
“No, but Blake is. Or was when Dracen sent the information. Edmond used his computer’s camera to see and spied him.”
“And we know it’s him?”
“Since some bimbo came in the room and called him such, he’s confident.” Aminta fell silent and didn’t speak again for ninety minutes—they left the rain and flew through clear skies. “Once you land, head due North. Chase the storm.”
He flexed his fingers, calming a bit at the cool feel of metal in his hands. When Aminta dropped equal to the tree line, he gave her a small wave then leapt out to the ground. He dodged to a tree and hid as she rose and veered away.
Once it was only him, he headed due north as she’d instructed, using the speed and senses he’d been given. Around him, the night was still calm. Where he was heading, the storm had already arrived. Chasing the storm was precisely what he was going to do, and he had less than three hours to get her out of there. He had no intention of failing.
* * * *
Taylor tried to get comfortable. It was damp and smelt musty. She’d since erased the word she’d written in the dirt, not wanting them to think she was doing anything.
Haley walked into view, a tray in her hands. More than one torch offered illumination now, yet none were actually in her cell.
“Food. Eat.” Haley slid the tray under the bottom cross bar of the cell.
“Why are you doing this, Haley?”
“Because it’s time for a change. I’ve dedicated my life to The New Order.” She drew out her lower lip and showed Taylor the brand on the inside. Then she grinned. “I was born to the Order.”
“Born to it? What do you gain from this?”
“Besides the power and wealth I was promised?”
Taylor’s face must have conveyed her doubt.
“You’re sitting there thinking they’re using me and I’m expendable. I’m not.”
She had been thinking that. “What makes you so special?”
“My father.”
Dread welled up. “Your father?”
“Yes. He’s one of the beings your friends want to kill and defeat.” Haley shook her head, eyes burning an eerie red. “I won’t let it happen. We won’t.”
“Who’s your father?”
“Hara.”
She filed the name away and walked to the tray. Unappetising. Gloppy and congealing. She lifted the tray, frowning at the sight of a cream plastic spork. Seriously? A spork? Guess I’m not tunnelling out of here with this.
Haley watched her and eventually Taylor turned her back and returned to the bed. When she sat and peered out through the bars, Haley had vanished. Only leaving her with light from one torch.
She pushed the tray away and began to investigate her cell. There had to be some way out of this old place. Cold, damp rock. No window. She checked the bars then returned to the bed and lay on her stomach. How the hell am I getting out of here? Pressing along the corner, she paused when the stone shifted.
If I could get out…
Taylor altered her position and grunted when something jabbed her in the ribs. What the…? She could have smacked herself in the head. Christ. My batons. She had weapons. How did I forget I carried them?
Feeling immensely better, she blew out her breath and calmed down. She was armed. Now to plan her escape. After moving the tray back nearer to the bars, she returned to the bed. She faced the corner and slipped one weapon free. Extending the baton, she began to dig along that loose block.
Occasionally, she would shake her shoulders as if she were crying. When she heard someone returning, she retracted the baton, adjusted the blanket to hide any mortar that may be noticeable under the cot, and faced the bars, wiping at some imaginary tears.
Haley again, and someone else with her.
“They aren’t going to trade,” Taylor said, lifting her chin.
“When we begin to send body parts, I’m sure they will reconsider.” Haley spoke as if talking about a summer’s day picnic. As if she actually looked forward to sending the parts.
Body parts? Had she even attempted to eat the nasty crap on the tray, it would have been regurgitated with those two words.
She pushed to her feet and stalked to the bars. “You bitch! I thought you were my friend.”
Haley sneered and stared down her nose. “You were supposed to think such a thing. That’s why it worked.”
Taylor kicked the tray at her, getting a small measure of satisfaction when a plop of it landed on her boot toe. A very small measure, for Haley barely acknowledged it.
“We’ll see how brave you are.”
Fear lifted its head and she swallowed hard. “Do your worst.” She might be about to die, but she’d be damned if she gave these bastards any satisfaction of knowing how scared she was.
The man beside Haley stepped forward and reached through the bars. He lifted his hand and her entire body rose along with it. Shit! The bars melted at his touch and he walked in, bringing her close. Behind him, the bars repaired themselves.
“You”—he sniffed her—“smell like fear and that pup, Cale.”
“Are you Hara?”
His laughter was extremely unpleasant.
Every part of her, on a visceral level, tried to pull back from him. It hurt—his laugh hurt.
“No. I am Tryvek.”
“Demon?”
If his laugh had been bad his smile…worse. Pointed teeth were bared to her, yellowed and rotting. “No.” He brought her closer.
Her eyes burned from the stench rolling from his mouth. “What are you?” Did she really want to know?
“The punisher.”
Her mind flashed to the DC Comic character and she immediately realised she’d rather meet the DC one.
I will not panic. She repeated that numerous times. Haley had left. Taylor located her batons and palmed them. “Am I supposed to beg for mercy from you?”
“If you want. Please amuse me, but”—he began to eliminate her air supply—“it will do you no good.”
He used his other hand, wrapped in a black glove, and reached to her face. She wanted to pull away but remained defiantly motionless. Her lack of movement was only exacerbated by the fact she still struggled to breathe. He stroked her cheek.
“Such beauty. We will have such fun together.”
“Doubt it,” she gasped.
“I am going to enjoy you.”
Breathing as normally as could be expected given her situation, she waited a couple of seconds more. Then attacked.
She went after his knees simultaneously. They both fell to the ground, however as she’d known it was coming, she landed on her feet while Tryvek howled in pain. Taylor didn’t hesitate—she had to keep him off guard. She launched another attack.
The batons whipped through the air, striking him with blow after blow. He grabbed the end of one, inches from his temple. He hissed something she didn’t understand but nothing happened. She struck with the second one as he jumped up.
“Who made those?” he demanded, coming at her again.
He backhanded her. Stars exploded as she whirled away to land, roll and rise again, ever so grateful for all the beatings she’d got during training with the dragon warrior. Tryvek didn’t slow either, and he was on her with swiftness. His massive fists delivered punishing blows. She weakened while he didn’t.
Outside the bars, demons had arrived and were screaming and grabbing at the metal with their feet and the claws at the tops of their wings. Chest heaving, she waited for his next attack. Deflecting his first swing, she allowed him to grab her and lift her so they were eye to eye. She was out of options, this was her final play—she just couldn’t keep up with him.
Using her waning strength, she shoved her other baton straight into his eye and beyond. He fell like a rock and took her with him. Something snapped in her arm and she cried out.
The screams from the demons got louder as more gathered. She pushed away from the still form of Tryvek, cradling her arm. Circling him wide, she
put his body between her and the cell door. They fell quiet as she put away the first baton and went to the one sticking out of his skull.
Thick, green liquid—pea soup green—ran down his face from his eye. The noxious smell turned her stomach. Grasping the handle, she glared at the demons, who for some reason couldn’t—or wouldn’t—come into the cell. Then she jerked the baton free. More green dripped from the end mixed with some grey. She flicked it at them, causing them to scramble back.
Don’t want to touch it. Her legs shook and she backed up to the bed, knees buckling when she bumped the frame. She found it nigh on impossible to look away from Tryvek. Had she killed him? And why was it so hard to breathe?
Spots appeared before her eyes and she slumped to the side.
* * * *
“I want her dead!” An angry statement, which penetrated the blanket of nothingness that had surrounded her.
“If we kill her now, we have no bargaining chip.” Male voice. Blake, if she was right.
“I don’t care. She killed Tryvek!” Possibly Haley? The tone was so high it was hard for her to decide.
Taylor opened her eyes and tried her best not to scream in pain. She lay on an elevated table, arms over her head, cuffing her there. The broken arm didn’t like the position. Her legs were also secured in the same fashion. To her right stood Haley and Blake.
He noticed her first. His grin widened and he moved towards her. He picked something up and showed it to her. Her baton.
“Where’d you get this?”
“Present.” It was difficult to talk. Her throat was so dry.
“From?”
She closed her eyes only to open them when a sharp pain went in her shoulder. Haley had stabbed her.
“You bitch! You killed Tryvek.”
Her lips were busted and swollen, still, she smiled best she could. “Did the world a favour.”
Hatred—quite possibly too mild of a word—filled Haley’s features as she turned the blade. Taylor screamed, unable to contain it.
“Haley, Lamar won’t be happy if she’s dead.”
“I won’t kill her. Yet.”
More screaming came courtesy of the pain she endured. Tears streamed from her eyes as Haley picked a few more places to put the knife.
Blake didn’t say anymore, just leaned against a wall and watched.
“What was that?” he broke in after numerous cuts.
Haley looked at him. “What?”
“There was some sparking by her fingertips.”
Haley turned back and shrugged. “Don’t see anything.”
Taylor drifted in and out of consciousness as her pain threshold was surpassed. She moved her head to peer up at her fingers, praying for a spark.
Cale.
A wave of them alighted along her fingertips.
“Did you see it?” Blake approached, pointing.
“Shut up, Blake, before I decide to kill you.”
I didn’t imagine it. Cale, please. Hurry.
The knife sank in again and she welcomed the pain-free darkness.
Chapter Sixteen
Cale ran like he had everything to lose. He did. Taylor Kenyon. Drawing on every drop of speed his power gave him, he nearly flew through the trees and covered those fifteen clicks in a short time. In tune to his sign, he slowed at the trickle of warning it gave him.
Overhead, he noticed he’d caught up to the storm. Thunder rumbled and deadly lightning jagged through the clouds. He climbed a tree and scouted the area. The house was surrounded by armed guards and dogs were patrolling the perimeter.
He spied a small, unmarked door on the first floor and looked up from that position. There was a way for him to get in the building. Leaping to the ground, he landed then took off again. When the skies opened up, he went back up in a tree and waited as the closest patrol went by him.
Sprinting through the grass, he listened to his sign as it directed him around booby traps. It took him seconds to pick the lock and slip through the door.
“I’m in his house.”
“We’re almost there.” Tiarnán didn’t tell him to wait or be careful, and he was grateful for that. He wasn’t a little boy anymore.
Cale took off and went to the top floor, searching for Blake. Time ticked down for him and he didn’t like it. He had to get to this man and find out where they were holding Taylor. Back on the first floor, he spied another door and went to it. Once he’d passed through it, he pressed tight to the wall as he heard people and smelt the stench that accompanied demons.
Why would this man have demons at his home? Cautiously, he made his way down. It wasn’t steps, but a smooth path. Beneath his feet, he could feel some grooves that indicated to him they often rolled heavy items up and down this path.
The sounds of feet thundering up towards him had him hiding. Men, women and even demons streaked up past him and out of the door. Alarms blared and were cut off when the door closed again. He understood what it meant—his brethren had arrived and were causing a distraction.
Soundproof door. He breathed out and began to move from his spot high up on the wall, only to find himself face to face with a fire breather. It slowly opened its mouth, a hiss escaping. Dropping to the ground, Cale threw four stars at it.
It joined him on the floor, dead. He kicked it to the side and was preparing to carry on when sparks burst to life along the back of his hand.
Electricity ran along his skin. Taylor. “She’s here!” He moved out.
“You see her?”
“No, Roz, but I see the sparks she gives me.” When he reached the bottom, there was more commotion and three directions to pick from on where he should go next. He bolted straight. Torches lined this passageway and he ran fast, needing to find her.
The corridor spilled out into an old dungeon. “There’s an old dungeon beneath his house. I haven’t found Blake yet either, but I’m looking for Taylor now. I know she’s here.”
He didn’t wait for any response, just went cell to cell. They were empty until he reached the end on one side. That one had a large body lying dead inside, and maintained the scent of Taylor, but she wasn’t there. The man, or creature, wore all black and lay in the middle of the floor. Cale repositioned himself to get a better look at who it was.
“Tryvek is here.”
“Where?” Tiarnán’s question snapped with the force of a bullwhip.
“Dead in a cell.”
“Someone killed him?”
“Yes. Not sure who, but he’s dead.”
“Once Hara finds out about this, it will get ugly fast. Find her and get the fuck out.”
“On it.”
Cale went back, double-checking the cells to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. Out where it split, he went to his right and checked there. Nothing but more cells, this time they were holding demons, who set up a raucous cry when he walked in. With the few explosives he had, he set them to go off then went to the third opening.
This one was different. About fifty feet in, he reached another door. Thick. Steel.
Sparks flickered then died away and he searched for a way in. No discernible way he could find. He cursed fluently that Billy wasn’t here, for that man could get into anything or anywhere.
“Billy?”
“Cale?”
“No time, man, I’m facing a thick door at least two feet with no way I can see to get in. Ideas?”
“Is there a window in it?”
“No.”
“Check the hinge side. Where does it lead to?”
“Into the wall. It’s in an underground place. Used to be an old dungeon. So the rock is a mix of kinds.”
“Get through the rock, you’ll find the electronics to it. Or go in on the other side and get a small hole so you can work the code.”
“I don’t have time, Billy. I need in fast. I don’t care if they know I’m coming or not.”
“Then don’t go through the door. Can you get to something along one of the sides of that are
a?”
“There’s another tunnel next to it, yes.”
“Go in through that way. Blow your way in. It is less likely to have been reinforced than what’s holding the door.”
“Thanks.”
“You okay?”
“They have my woman.”
“Kill the bastards.”
“I plan on it.”
He whipped around, running back into the middle tunnel to one of the cells. That he got into easily and within seconds, he was ducking as the charge was set to explode.
As Billy had predicted, it made a hole and he burst through into a room that was something out of a torture movie. The types of devices he saw lying on tables were horrific. The person he saw laying on one sent him over the edge.
Cale roared in fury, releasing weapons at the demons who flew at him and raced down towards the table that held Taylor. He saw the woman who delivered their mail and another male near Taylor.
Then he had a wall of demons to deal with. He sliced, kicked and fought. His sign added in its own assistance. More demons poured in and explosions rocked the place, sending them to the floor.
Their bites burned like hell and the fireballs they launched at him were no picnic either. Out of stars, he went to his daggers.
“Should have just given up the pendant,” a male spoke and the demons parted to let him through.
Daggers returned to their place and Cale drew a sword as he stared at the man before him. “You’ll never get it, Kuruk.”
The man stood over eight feet tall and had muscles that never seemed to end. “We always get what we want. Imagine, all of you here and leaving it unprotected.”
Cale gave a feral grin. “Oh, damn. If only we’d thought about that. I saw your dead brother. Who killed him? I’d like to buy them a gift.”
His gaze narrowed. “Tryvek was—”
“Shit of the lowest order, like you.” He swung his sword as they continued to circle one another.
Kuruk yowled and attacked. Cale stepped up and met the strikes. Thrusting, parrying and delivering kicks, they battled. Each time he moved to where he could see Taylor, Cale faltered and Kuruk never failed to press his advantage.